The Identity Of Lord Death
by TheAnimeWriterLover
Summary: Death the Kid always wondered to himself. Who was his father before he came to Death City?


**Chance of OOC taking place so sorry if it does happen**

Age: 1 day old

Harry James Potter, better known as Lord Death, stared with soft emerald eyes at his son. Not even a day old, and already has lost his mother due to problems that took place in childbirth. He has never thought that this day would come. He always has believed that he would die during the battle against Voldermort, but managed to survive because of being the new Lord Death himself. Now, here he was, with his _real _son, Death the Kid, in his arms asleep, wrapped in a warm blue blanket. He's not like the creation that he made, Asura, he could tell. The man looked back towards the bed, which contains his dead wife. Even in death, she's as beautiful as ever.

You see, this woman in front of him isn't a witch, but neither is she a muggle. The woman, Ai, is a meister, a human being that wields a weapon much like a soul reaper. After the war took place, 300 years ago, he came to Death city. When he got there finally, he ran into her many, many times. Finally, after the 54th time, the two talked and quickly became friends. Not long afterwards, they gained feelings for each other and started dating. It was then that Harry told her of his past and position at the moment. That got him a slap over the head then a hug. Even to this day he has no idea why she did that. Oh well! It was Ai after all. Not many people understood her behavior. After two years of dating, the two, finally, got married. Not long afterwards they were expecting their first child.

Harry stood up, gave her a soft kiss on his deceased wife's forehead as farewell. He was ready to walk out of the room but was stopped. He stared at the mirror that was on the wall near the corner of the room. He was in his human form, which was completely different than he had when he was 17 years old. He reached the height of 6'5'', but it was only thanks to the items that sat in a box back home that fixed his growth problem. His unruly hair became straight as it reached the middle of his back. The glasses that he always had on his nose were long gone, because he managed to fix his eye sight right after leaving the Wizarding World. The emerald eyes that were always so curious and naive had much wisdom and knowledge in them. The lightning scar on his forehead was long gone as well, leaving behind smooth tan skin as if it was never there.

With a snap of his fingers, a black cloud started to form and covered his entire body. As fast as it appeared, it quickly left, leaving behind a tall cloaked figure with a white mask on. Harry looked down at his son and whispered to him:

"Let's get you home before it gets too dark"

With a flash he, and his son, disappeared on the spot.

-ooOOoo-

Age: 5 years old

"Dad, can you tell me about mom?"

Five years old Death the Kid asked his father. He stared at a small frame that contained the picture of his deceased mother on one of the walls. Harry, who was dressed in normal cloths, looked at his son quietly. This was the first time that the child has asked of her, but... it does make sense when he thought about it. Even when he was little he asked his aunt and uncle about his parents. Harry said to his son:

"Alright, but you need to be in bed first."

Death the Kid ran to his room, which was close by, climbed into his bed and waited. Lord Death took a seat on a chair next to the bed. He turned his emerald eyes towards the curious yellow pair.

"Your mother's name is Ai." He started "She's a stubborn and short tempered woman, who took her job as a meister very seriously." He stared into space and had a thoughtful look on his face. "On the other hand, she's a very kind woman that cares about her friends and family."

"She sounds a lot like you."

The child interrupted his father. That comment got a deep chuckle from his father. Once more, Harry stared back at his son with a very amused smile.

"Yes, maybe that's why we got along so well."

Death the Kid took the information in with a wonder look. A few moments of silence passed by when he asked:

"How did you two meet?"

The man chuckled once more but it was more nervousness.

"Let's just say that our first meeting wasn't the... best."

"What happened?"

Now Death the Kid became _really_ curious. His father sweated slightly and scratched his cheek at the memory.

"Let's just say never spill food on women's clothing."

The man mentally winced at the memory. Correction... never spill food on _Ai_'s clothing. She's so scary when she's angry, now that he thought about it. Before his son could ask anything else, Harry kissed his forehead good night and quickly left the bedroom. _Bad memories, bad memories, bad memories_, he thought to himself over and over again of the first times the two met. Now, how was he supposed to get rid of them?

-ooOOoo-

Age: 8 years old

"Dad. Who are these people? Why are the pictures moving?"

Death the Kid ran into his office with an old worn out looking album in his hands. When Harry saw it, his emerald eyes narrowed in shock at what his son possessed in his hands. It's the old album that Hagrid has given him back when he went to Hogwarts. He hid it in hope to not get lost in his memories of _that_ time. He snatched the album out of the young kid's grip and ordered him:

"Never go through my stuff again! You hear me?!"

Death the Kid stared with fright at his angry father. He gave a shaky nod and quickly got out of there. He has never seen his father so angry before, and hoped to never see it again. He still didn't get it though. Why did the man look so shock to see the album? Why was he so angry? When he looked at the pictures, he quickly could identify his father as the scrawny looking kid with two others. He looked so happy in those pictures, but yet is so angry to see the album.

While Death the Kid was in the living room scared and confused, Harry was in his office trying to deal with his emotions. Just by staring at the album made his old feelings resurface. Why couldn't the past just leave him alone? Why couldn't he just burn or throw the damn thing away? He has a new life now, but yet his old one always comes back to haunt him.

_Hermione... Ron..._ he thought and tears started to run down his cheeks like rivers. He felt his heart break in half at the memories of those two. Why is Fate so cruel?

-ooOOoo-

Age: 15 years old (Don't know his age at this time period so don't get angry)

"Father, I want to go to the Academy."

"Hm?" Harry hummed out in a question manner as he looked up from his paperwork. "Excuse me I don't think I heard you right. Can you repeat it?"

"I want to go to the Academy."

Death the Kid stated once more with annoyance. He knew clearly that his old man heard him right. Lord Death put down the pen that he was holding gently. He looked up and interrogated his son with wonder:

"Why do you want to go to the Academy?"

"I could... get some new experiences while I'm learning there."

_Liar_, Harry thought straight away. He could tell when his son was lying from a mile away just by looking at the adolescent. _Why do you really want to go there?_ The question hung in his mind. He stared at the serious yellow eyes, and studied them silently. They looked so determined and even _dared_ him to go against his wishes. Now the man became very amused at his son's moves. He announced his decision:

"Very well, you may attend the school. All I'm asking is for you to stay out of trouble."

"Of course father"

The tense shoulders the teen had dropped slightly in relief. He nodded his head in farewell and left the office to leave the man to work.

As, he walked through the halls of the mansion, his yellow eyes caught something interesting. That something interesting was in his father's master bedroom. The memory of what happened the last time he went in there made his spine shiver. His mind told him not to go in there, because his father is going to be very angry with him just like back then, but his curiosity got the best of him.

Tiptoeing into the room, Death the Kid looked over his shoulder at the door. He listened intensely and was satisfied when he didn't hear anybody coming. He saw a worn out looking box sit on the night stand, with its lid off. Inside the box were..._ letters? Why does he, out of all people, have letters inside a box?_ Now he became _very_ curious. Once more he listened to somebody approaching, and after making sure nobody was he took one of the letters out. He opened it and read what was written.

_Hogwarts? Ron? Hermione? Magic? Whom is he writing? No... The letter looks very old and delicate for something that could have been written recently. From the looks of it, I'm guessing that it's from 300 to 400 years ago. _The thought was interrupted when he heard footsteps off in the distance. Quickly, he put the letter back into the box and quietly left the room with one question in mind.

_Father left England a long time ago. So, who was he before then?_

-ooOOoo-

Age: 18 years old

Today he, Death the Kid, is going to get answers out of the man, whom he calls his father. All these years of trying to figure out his father's past was starting to get to him. He knows of his mother's past, but what about his father's. No! What kind of a son doesn't know his father's past before he met his mother?

He strolled into the building that he used to once call home. Now, he owned an apartment inside of the city for a whole year. He started to walk the halls that contained many memories of his childhood up until he left. Many of them were good, such as how kind and caring his father was towards him. On the other hand, it contained a few bad memories, such as his father getting angry on him at age 8.

It didn't take him long to reach the office. Death the Kid stood outside of it when fear started to rule his body. He knew his father is going to be _very_ angry... no... He's going to be _furious_ at him for finding out that he went through his room once more. He has seen the man mad, but furious is a whole different matter. Well, he has an idea after seeing his father ripping his older brother piece by piece a few years ago. So, is he really ready to face the anger?

By now his hand was on the door handle, shaking violently at the image. Death the Kid took a deep breath, turned the handle and walked in. His yellow eyes looked towards his father who was sitting on an arm chair next to the fire place. The man turned his head slightly, but enough for his emerald eyes to be seen staring right back. Lord Death asked:

"Finally came to visit after a whole year? What's with that look on your face? No 'hello' to your old man?"

"Cut the act, father, you know exactly why I'm here."

It's clear as day that Harry knew why his son came to visit after a year. The older of the two stated in a dangerous, but smooth, manner:

"I thought I told you to never question my past."

"You always tell me that!" The other snapped with fury. "Why is it that whenever I ask you, you start to get angry? Why can't you answer a simple question? _Who were you before you met mother?_"

The question was repeated for what felt like a hundredth of time. Slowly, Harry stood from the seat. When Death the Kid came in a close range with his father, he gulped silently as he stared up. Even though he's an adult, his father pretty much towers over him, which made the younger of the two feel like an ant ready to be stepped on by somebody. His stubbornness took control and he stayed in his spot, glaring up at the other. Harry said slowly:

"Curiosity kills the cat."

"I don't care! Just answer the question already! Why do your letters contain the words magic, Hermione, Ron and Hogwarts? What is this revolution that they keep on talking about? Who is this Dumbledore? What kind of a war-"

_Slap_

The sound echoed throughout the quiet room. Death the Kid stared in shock at his father. His left cheek hurt from the slap that he received just now. This was the first time that he was hit by the man in front of him. When he looked into the emerald eyes, the anger shown very clearly, alongside what seems to be sadness?

"I told you to never go through my stuff again!"

Harry shouted with fury.

Once more there was silence between the two. The tension was so thick that one could simply cut through it with ease with a knife.

Harry rubbed his face as he tried to think clearly through the anger. Why? Why did he hit his own son? It made him feel like he's his uncle and Kid is him when he was younger. His son just wants to know his past, that's all he's asking. He should have known better to leave the growing curiosity alone. Still, even to this day it's hard for him to look back at the past. _What would Ai, Ron and Hermione do to me if they saw what I've just done? They'd probably beat me up for raising my hand on my own flesh and blood._ The thought of his friends and lover hurt him a bit, but he knew that it's finally time to reveal the truth. He ran his hand through his long hair, sighed and said tiredly:

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to hit you. Just... sit down and I'm going to answer whatever your questions."

Death the Kid started to feel slightly bad for forcing this onto his old man, but he just needed to know. Silently, the two sat down on their own arm chairs. It seems like hours has past by as they sat quietly. The young adult turned his head towards his father when he spoke.

"My name used to be Harry Potter. I was a wizard, the son of James and Lily Potter. Just to get something clear, the witches here and back home are completely different. There are some back home that are evil, but the majority of them aren't. Also, a wizard is a male magical being, which is why I said that instead of witch." He got an understanding nod and continued, "An evil wizard, by the name of Voldermort, started a war inside of the Wizarding Community. He killed my parents when I was a little over a year old. My headmaster dropped me off in my... _relatives'_ house," He said the word with such distaste that he didn't bother to hide it. "I didn't know that I became famous that night, and so, for the past 10 years, I was oblivious to my future and heritage. One day, on my birthday, I got a letter from a place called Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a magical school for both wizards and witches. There, I found out about my fame, met my future best friends, comrades and enemies."

With that, he began to tell his son of the adventures that he went through each year. By the time that he finished talking about his past, the moon was high in the sky. Death the Kid stared in shock at his father. Never once has he expected to hear something like this. All the things the man in front of him went through made his life look like a walk in the park. The war, the loss of friends and comrades, the pain, the sadness, losing the only one who he thought of a father... he couldn't even imagine what he went through. All he managed to say was:

"Wow" Harry chuckled at the responds. He asked, "So, the people that was in that album...?"

Harry understood what he was asking. He waved his hand and the old album appeared on his lap. He opened it to the page that his son has been staring at all those years ago. He handed the album over while explaining:

"Those two are my best friends. The one with red hair is Ron and the other is Hermione."

"You... look so small compare to the two of them..."

"I didn't have the... best childhood, which affected my growth."

Lord Death explained with a soft sigh in the end. He watched as his son flipped through the pages. He stopped on one, handed it over then asked:

"Who are these people?"

The emerald eyes looked towards the picture and a grin spread across his face.

"Those are your grandparents"

"You look a lot like grandfather, but you have grandmother's eyes."

A small smile appeared on Harry's face. He said with amusement:

"I could say the same thing about you. You may look like me but you have your mother's eyes."

Death the Kid returned a small smile. He continued to flip through the pages with his father throughout the night.

One thing for sure, he's father is a true hero.

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**Hope you enjoyed this little story!**

**Bye!**


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